


Lingering Scars

by CaptMickey



Category: Monkey Island
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, movie!guybrush needs a hug, set in the cancelled movie version
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-24 22:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21665389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptMickey/pseuds/CaptMickey
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. A Never Ending Nightmare

“I’m not a pirate.” Guybrush said as he mustered whatever courage that didn’t dwindle away from him. 

He tried to not pay much mind of the other pirates staring him down with a kind of thirst in their eyes as he looked at LeChuck in all of his decaying and rotting glory thanks in part to the very few sources of light in the form of candles illuminated the fearsome pirate. His body felt numb as LeChuck glared at him, feeling some kind of internal rage within his rotting body.

“Oh, so you’re not a pirate, are you?” LeChuck sneered and steeped closer to Guybrush. “Allow me to recap the last two days of your actions.” He raised a bony hand and began counting. “You abandoned your former life as an honest bait fisherman, you signed up to MY crew, you proceeded to fight off against the Anti-Pirate armada and SUNK all of their ships, taking their captain hostage on top of that humiliated defeat Marley went through, fought a sea serpent, stole a treasured item from a tribe and most importantly... abandoned your crew for treasure.” 

Guybrush turned his head down to the floor, wanting to be literally anywhere else but here when he felt LeChuck grab him by the chin and forced him to look the decaying pirate in the eyes. “Face it boy, you have quite the pirate resume.”

He never thought he’d wish to be back on his old ship, but there he was wishing to go back to that cramped make-shift boat house.

“I... I’m not a pirate! I’m not doing this!” Guybrush declared, more out of nerves and fear then confidence, really, but otherwise determined.

LeChuck growled. “Enough of this.” His facade broke and snapped his fingers as Guybrush felt various bony hands grab a hold of him, preventing him from running. He struggled desperately to get away, to have their firm hold on him break as LeChuck began pulling out a sharp and gleaming dagger from his coat, roughly gripping Guybrush’s thin wrists and yanked it towards him.

“N...no no! Stop!” He pleaded, seeing his hand being held over the unknown concoction the woman was brewing. Desperately, he tried pulling his hand back only to feel the dagger cut painfully and almost deeply across his palm.

Guybrush sat up in his bed, covered in sweat and panting with a shaking hand over his chest, feeling just how rapidly his heart was beating. He tried taking in deep breaths, trying to calm himself from that horrible nightmare by saying to himself internally that it was just that - a nightmare.

He rubbed the heel of his shaky hand over his eyes, feeling it sting for some reason when he caught a glimpse of the palm of his left hand.

It made his stomach churn just from the sight of the pink scar across his palm. As much as he was telling himself that it was all a nightmare, seeing it there in all of it’s jagged glory was a reminder that it wasn’t.

Guybrush leaned his head back against the headboard of his bed, cradling the scarred hand and looking up at the wooden ceiling. This is seventh night in a row that I had this nightmare, he thought. Seventh night in a row with no sleep. He rubbed his face again and looked out at the window, seeing the telltale signs of the sky that the sun would pop up in a few hours.

Well, he figured, no point trying to go back to sleep... not when _**he**_ was there ready to cut his hand again.


	2. The Morning After

Guybrush sat on the pier, watching the sun rise and the local life slowly but surely waking up and going about their day. 

He rested his chin on his bandaged hand, watching the crowd when he heard the sounds of boots approaching him. His body tensed up as his mind was flashing to LeChuck and his crew when they first walked over to him instead of thinking of what to do to escape or call for help or--

“Huh, you’re up early.” A feminine British voice spoke up.

Guybrush turned his body to look and saw it was Elaine standing over him, a hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised. “Oh... it’s just you.” Guybrush mumbled, his body sagging just a little and said quietly under his breath ‘thank heavens’.

“Just me?”

“I-- no, I didn’t mean like-- what I meant was” He sighed. “...Sorry.”

He turned to face the crowd again, not catching Elaine examining him intensely before sitting on his left.

“How did you sleep?” She asked, her tone being a lot softer. “You look... exhausted.”

“Eh... I’ve had better nights.” Guybrush admitted, lightly touching the bandage as he looked at her, trying not to think of LeChuck and the dagger and forcing a smile on his face. “I ah... probably shouldn’t have had whatever it was I ate before I went to bed. B-but uh... how’d you sleep?”

“Hm, fine, I guess.” Elaine shrugged. “Woke up thirsty in the middle of the night but otherwise, uneventful.”

_**...On top of the humiliated defeat Marley went through...** _

Guybrush looked away from her to his hand, feeling that small knot in his stomach again. He really did skew her entire career for probably the worst, didn’t he? She could be out there living a better more successful career instead of bumming around with the likes of some no good, no named bait fisher--

“I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry now." The former pirate hunter stretched her arms over her head. “Want to grab breakfast with me?” 

“Huh?” He looked up at her, his thoughts coming to an abrupt halt. 

“Breakfast?” Elaine gave a small smirk. “You know, the most important meal of the day? Pirate or otherwise?”

“O...oh, sure. But um... I don’t know if I could afford--”

“Don’t worry, breakfast is on me.” She stood up and brushed whatever dirt off of her as she extended her hand out to the former sailor.

He smiled softly and took hold of her hand with his left, forgetting just how strong her grip was as she yanked him to his feet.

**_...And he saw LeChuck carefully pull out a dagger as he held firmly his wrist and..._ **

Guybrush forcefully pulled his hand back from her, taking a few steps back from her while cradling his hand, shaking as he stared at her with wide eyes. Even though they were in the Caribbean, he couldn’t help but feel suddenly very cold.

“Guybrush?” Elaine called out, confused. “What’s wrong?” She tried taking a step closer to him but saw him taking a step back. Slowly catching on, she raised her hands up, defensively. “Guybrush, it’s me. It’s Elaine, remember? Just... take a deep breath.”

He stared for a while, but slowly began to blink, recognizing slowly where he was again and looked at the redhead. “Elaine... oh.” He lowered his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “Um... sorry about that. I uh... blanked out.”

“So I noticed.” Elaine said, noticing how he was now looking at anyone but her. 

“A-anyways,” Guybrush looked at her again, a distant look in his eyes with his hand still on his neck. “Breakfast?”

Elaine just stared for a while, noting that something was going on, but instead shrugged. “Of course. I’ll lead the way.”


	3. Hidden Lies

It was well over a month since their adventure and the makeshift house sailed through the ocean peacefully, having finally been looked at and repaired properly (as well as thoroughly cleaned... good lord did it need one, Elaine thought).

She steered the ship as she watched Guybrush coiling up the rope to be placed away neatly. But more importantly, she noticed the cloth bandage still wrapped around his left hand. While Elaine was no expert on first aid, even she knew that eventually with time, wounds heal... and sometimes it’s good to take off a bandage to let the skin breathe. 

“Hey, Guybrush?” Elaine called out.

“Yeah?” He looked at her, storing the rope away.

“You do know you could take off the wrap, right?”

“Wrap?” Guybrush gulped and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh... what wrap?”

“The one around your palm.” She answered deadpanned.

Slowly, Guybrush glanced down to his bandage hand, knowing she wasn’t in the mood for his goofball antics. “Oh... you mean this one. Right, I-I knew that.”

Elaine just stared at him as the two stood on the makeshift boat in silence with only the ambient sounds coming from the seagulls and ocean water that was hitting the sides gently.

“So, are you going to take it off, or...?”

“I-I will, I should... you’re right.”

Elaine tied a rope to the steering wheel (something she caught Guybrush doing when he doesn’t want to anchor and keep moving but not be by the wheel) and walked over to him, slowly reaching out to hold his hand. “Here, I’ll help--”

“Ah... no need! It’s fine. I-I got used to it.” Guybrush stumbled on his answer as he placed his left hand behind his back. 

She quirked a brow.

“Used to it?”

“Yeah, see, it helps when I go fishing? Holding the rod for a long time rubs the palm badly and the cloth helps. Like a cushion!” He smiled nervously, hand still hidden. 

More silence lingered, only this time, Elaine was standing face to face with Guybrush, staring intensely into his eyes and catching a glimpse of that small bead of sweat on the side of his forehead. She sighed and crossed her arms. “Guybrush, give me your hand so I can look at it.”

_...his hand being held over the unknown concoction the woman was brewing..._

“N... no.”

“Beg your pardon?” 

Just looking at him, Elaine could see him shaking. “No... it’s fine. I’M fine. Honest.”

“If you’re fine, then let me see your hand.” She held out her own for him to place his. “I promise you, I won’t bite. I’m just looking.”

_...He tried pulling his hand back only to feel the dagger cut..._

“...Guybrush?”

He took a step back, his gaze to the floor as everything started to feel dizzy again. Guybrush didn’t even realize that the conversation about his hand dropped once Elaine carefully moved him to sit down on a crate before disappearing to the galley to grab a drink for him.


	4. Hand to Hand

As much as he didn’t want to, Guybrush had to swap out cloth covering his scar. A small part of him figured that nothing but the absolute worst cover was worthy of it, but mostly, he was growing to dislike the weird funk that was coming out of it... it reminded him too much of LeChuck and his rotting crew surrounding him before the slice. 

Sam would have glared at him if he was here.

Still. Maybe the odd smell was the cause of the nightmares?

Slowly, he started to unwrap the bandage when he heard a small knock on his door. Jumping, he quickly hid his scarred hand behind his back. “Y-yes?”

“Guybrush? It’s me.” Elaine’s voice called. “May I come in?”

“Uh...” Guybrush looked around, grabbing the clean cloth and placed it in his pocket. “Y-yeah, yeah. You can come in.”

There was a momentary pause but the door eventually opened with the former hunter standing walking into the room. “How are you feeling today?”

“Ah... better. Good call with nap. Didn’t... didn’t think of doing that. That was some smart thinking.” He gave an awkward smile.

Elaine playfully rolled her eyes, but the corner of her lips was forming a smirk. “Right, much like it was smart thinking to advise you to rest and drink water more often instead of running on practically fumes.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, watching Elaine pace around the room and looking around. “Something wrong?”

“No, just catching weird whiffs of something?” Elaine answered. “Not sure if that’s just the bait that’s permanently instilled into this boat.” She lightly laughed at her own humor, but when she saw that Guybrush wasn’t laughing or immediately defending himself and the boat, she quickly stopped. “You okay.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m just... really tired.” He admitted somewhat.

“So I’ve notice.”

“What?” He looked up at her.

“Your bags have bags under your eyes, you fell asleep at the wheel last week. On top of that, you’re always jumping every time I come over and for some reason, you seem insisted on hiding your hand behind your back or in your pocket or... whatever story you decided to come up with.” Elaine stated.

 _...And most importantly... abandoned your crew for treasure. Face it boy, you have quite the pirate resume..._

He cautiously rubbed his fingers along the scar on his hand when suddenly he saw a finger snap right in front of him, causing the former fisherman to jump.

“Wh--what? What happened?”

“You proving my point is what happened.” The former pirate hunter stared, leaning back into her chair. “So spill it. Your hand, why is it behind your back? And I swear, if you say it’s nothing, I will personally beat you with your pillow.” She pointed at the aforementioned pillow on the bed.

He looked confused and then turned to face the pillow. “Ah.”

“So what’s behind your back?” She grabbed a chair and took a seat, crossing her legs and arms. 

Guybrush hesitated, weighing the pros and cons of getting a face full of pillow.

“Guybrush,” She spoke in a low but calm and reassuring tone, “I promise you, nothing bad is going to happen. I just want to help you.”

“Why, though...”

She raised her brows, surprised. “Hm?”

“Why would you want to help me? I... I blew your ship and... and your crews’ ships! I held you captive and then didn’t listen to you and got everyone in danger, took you away from your rightful capture and that’s not to mention that I willingly joined and inadvertently helped LeCh--” He stopped his rant and quickly pursed his lips shut, looking away. “...him. I ruined everything for you.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look up at Elaine, no doubt she was doing that examining stare of hers on him. The only indication he knew she was still in the room was the faint groan the chair did as she leaned forward to him. 

“Why,” she finally spoke, “do I feel like that I’m not the actual issue?”

Guybrush remained quiet.

“It’s LeChuck, isn’t it?” Seeing him flinch was her only indication that she was finally on to something. “And what happened on Monkey Island?” He was now shaking. In a blink of an eye, Elaine quickly pieced the puzzle together; the sleepless nights, the topic avoidance, the insistence of keeping his hand wrapped... she frowned as she came to the sadden conclusion.

Guybrush kept staring at the floor, irritated that his own body was selling him out like this when he noticed from the corner of his eye her hand extended out to him. She was not forcing him, not grabbing from him, just out and waiting for him to place his hand in her’s.

Slowly, he extended the scarred hand to her, letting her gently take a hold as she examined it closely. 

_...He tried pulling his hand back..._

He gripped his bed sheet to try and fight back against pulling his hand back when she gently let it go. 

“It’s bothering you that bad?” Elaine ask softly.

Guybrush opened his mouth to answer, but found himself closing his mouth and nodding. 

As much as she wanted to tell him to not think too deeply on it, she refrained. “I understand.” She then said.

“Y... you do?”

Elaine nodded. “It... what happened was scary, especially against something like what we faced. Nightmares... they’re bound to happen. I still have some from time to time.” She saw Guybrush slowly look her way. “I’d encourage for you to talk about it... however, if you’re not feeling ready yet, that’s alright too. But know that I’m here to help, okay?”

Guybrush nodded, his shoulders sagging a bit.

“Okay.”


	5. A Step Forward

She respected his decision to not want to talk about it during that night. In fact, she took it as a small victory that Guybrush stopped coming up with stories and lies as to why he was either hiding his hand or keeping it wrapped up. It was, however, a little bit upsetting to know that he still kept it under wraps, though she couldn’t fault him now that she knew more or less why he did what he did.

And him still being sleep deprived was still an on-going saga...

Still, small victories.

Guybrush meanwhile felt a little bit more at ease after the conversation. It was... kind of nice to finally talk to someone and have them talk back. Even if there were times he would say things that would warrant him an angered glare from the fiery redhead. Like saying exactly that to her and comparing him to his former boat-mate who was a monkey. That... that conversation didn’t end well in Guybrush’s book. 

However... those nightmares, they kept persisting. And he knew that and he knew that she knew that. And no matter how many times he wanted to talk about it, it always just...

“Guybrush, look out!” Elaine shouted as she quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him over from falling into a manhole. Before she could even take a breath of relief, Guybrush yanked his hand away from her, cradling it once more with a frantic look in his eyes. “I... oh. Oh, Guybrush, no, I didn’t...” She began to apologize, watching him take shaking steps back from her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it, I was just trying to move you away from the... the... Guybrush?”

He shook as his eyes recognized what had happened and stinging with tears. He didn’t flinch as Elaine was taking slow and calculated steps closer to him, her hands up and defensive. He heard her saying his name, saying that everything was alright. He wanted to believe her... he knew she was right. And yet...

Why didn’t it feel alright?

Before he could speak, he felt himself being enveloped in a warm embrace and for once, his mind went silent as he rested his head into the crook of Elaine’s neck. 

“It’s okay.” Her voice cut through the memory. “It’s okay, you’re safe.” 

She didn’t move until she knew Guybrush was good and ready to walk and gently guided him over to somewhere more secluded, where neither of them would be looked at by any of the locals. Once finding a spot, she sat down, relieved to see the blond mimic her. 

“Still with me?” She asked.

He nodded. 

“Good. And don’t apologize, by the way, I can see you forming sorry.”

Guybrush nodded again and rubbed his thumb along the bandage. Both of them stayed quiet, looking around their settings until one of them broke the silence.

“So... I was thinking.” Elaine spoke. “How you claimed to have ruined my life? Took me a while to think of a response and I have a good one. Ready to hear it?”

He looked at her with a quirked brow.

“You didn’t.”

“W...” Guybrush shook his head. “B-but I did! I absolutely did! I-I-I made you work with pirates. With ME.”

“And why is that a bad thing?” She tilted her head.

“Cause I was with... you know...” He glanced at and rubbed the bandaged hand, “...him.”

She shook her head. “No, that’s not a life ruining thing. Not to me, anyways. I’ve said it before that your face is far too sweet to be truly evil. And that you just so happened to have been at the wrong place at the wrong time.” She crossed her legs. “Anyways. The point that I’m trying to make is that you can be completely open with me. You don’t need to tell me things right this second if you don’t feel ready, but know that I’m not going to judge you.” She placed a hand on his knee instead of his hand, noting him flinching. “And I have a feeling you need to talk.”

The blond sat there, weighing the pros and cons once more before taking in a deep breath. “I... I um... I still don’t feel ready to talk about the nightmare. Not yet...”

“Okay--”

“But.” He cut her off, trying to stop himself from shaking, “But I do want you to know that... that I know. And I want to talk. But it’s just... I just feel like he’s hovering over me, just... just hands around my neck? And um... it’s... I’m exhausted with myself. B-because... because I wanted this life. I wanted to be a pirate and instead...” He looked back at his hand and scoffed. “I’m just a wreck. I have the same nightmare over and over again that I'm not even sure why anymore and I... the idea of going back to my old life... it’s terrifying to me. So I'm stuck with returning to being some chum bait fisherman or stuck with the nightmare.”

So her theory was right... but she refrained from saying so.

"And I don't... I don't want you to think less of me? I know I'm new to this and all but I just... I just... I don't know."

Elaine watched him take shaking breaths, realizing and respecting how much it was taking out of him to be this open to her. She chose her words carefully. “I can't say that the nightmares will one day go away forever. I still have my fair share from time to time that I could have sworn left me. However, I can say, that with time, time will heal... and while you may look at that scar with animosity, with time you'll learn to move on as you continue to grow and gain new experience. After all, everyone needs to start somewhere, yes? So tell me, do you remember what you said to me before you ran off with the jewel?”

“Um...” He blushed. “I’m gonna be honest and say I don’t remember because I actually don’t remember.”

She scoffed. “You said you were never going back to your old life. Why did you say that?”

Did he say that? Of course he said that. He said it a number of times even during his old life. “Because... because I didn’t want to be some chum fisherman anymore. I... I always wanted to lead a life of adventure and being a pirate and just... not be where I was.”

“So humor me, what makes you think I want to go back to my own old life?” She asked.

“I dunno... because that’s an adventure in and of itself? Just... more law abiding.” He rubbed the back of his neck as Elaine let out a laugh.

“True.” Elaine smirked. “And trust me, if I ever wanted to be a hunter again, it wouldn’t be hard for me to go back into it, so you could go ahead and jot that down, however, that won’t be happening, I think.”

“What?” Guybrush looked surprised. “Really?”

She nodded. “I did enjoy our adventure. And, as much as you make me want to chuck something at your head at times, I enjoy adventuring with you.” Elaine admitted. “So, you know... there’s that.”

Guybrush made a face, as if calculating what she said, common sense, and his own somewhat limited knowledge.”So... wait. Okay, I’m uh... are... are you saying you want to sail with me? As in like a crew?”

Elaine stared, dumbfounded. “I still can’t believe you were the one who took me down.”

“So is that a yes or a no?”

“Oh my Go-- yes. It means yes.”

Guybrush blushed and Elaine just rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to hide that smirk on her face. 


End file.
